


Until We Meet Again (This Isn't the End)

by flipflop_diva



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: Adult Content, Adultery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:32:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They thought they'd moved on. They thought they didn’t care about each other anymore. They definitely thought they didn’t need or love each other anymore. Unfortunately, they thought wrong. Because sometimes the only one you can’t live with is the only one you can’t live without. Starts after Grey’s 9.1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Carrie Underwood's "See You Again"

**[Ten Years Earlier]**

It’s dark and quiet, as he knew it would be, when he slips inside. There is a slight smell of charcoal in the air, as though something was cooked a little too long. As he moves further inside, he can see two plates laid out on the dining room table, food still on them, wine still sitting in two long-stemmed glasses.

His heart sinks, guilt overwhelming him.

It hadn’t been his fault that there was a horrible car accident. It hadn’t been his fault that two people would have died if he didn’t perform emergency surgery on them right then and there. It hadn’t been his fault that she didn’t understand that.

But still.

He rubs his face now as the guilt flares up even more.

He shouldn’t have yelled at her. He definitely shouldn’t have yelled at her in front of co-workers, other nurses and surgeons who didn’t have the decency to even pretend they weren’t watching them. And he especially shouldn’t have kept yelling at her after she started to cry.

The fact that she was crying, in public, should have been his first clue. But at the time, it had just made him angry. He had just wanted her to understand.

But he knows now it was him that hadn’t understood.

The roses in his hand drop to the ground. It’s not like they will make a difference now anyway.

Mark was right. His words haunt him.

_“You are an idiot.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“You heard me. You are an idiot.”_

_“I don’t have time for this.” Derek tried to push past him, but Mark stood firm, even reaching out a hand to place on Derek’s shoulder, holding him in place._

_“You are going to lose her, if you aren’t careful.”_

_Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?”_

_Mark scoffed. “Not from me! You are going to lose her because as much as she loves you, you are slowly killing her. She deserves better than you!”_

_The words stung._

_“Just leave me alone, Mark,” he muttered, “and stay out of my marriage.” He shoved past him and headed into surgery._

Now, he sighs and rubs his hands through his hair. Losing her is the last thing he wants. But maybe Mark is right.

He turns around and starts to head up the stairs. Everything is pitch black. He figures she’s sleeping. He pushes open the door to their room and freezes. She’s not there.

“Addie?” he calls, but there is no answer. He checks the bathroom, but she’s not there. He checks the guest room, but that too is empty.

He’s a few seconds away from panicking when something occurs to him. He grabs his keys and heads out the door.

He finds her where he thought he’d find her. A lone figure hunched over on a bench in the middle of Central Park, a Styrofoam cup of coffee clenched in her fingers, her shoulders shaking slightly from her tears.

He sits down beside her, startling her. The cup falls from her hands, splatters on the ground, sending hot liquid on to her legs and his. 

“Derek!” she gasps, and he sees the fear fall away from her eyes. “You scared me!”

He can’t fight the urge to scold her. “What are you doing, Addison? Out here in the middle of the night by yourself? You could be killed.”

Her eyes narrow and she turns away from him, folding her arms across her chest.

“Why do you care?”

“Why do I care if you’re killed?” His voice reflects his outrage that she would even think that.

She merely shrugs. “You don’t want to spend time with me.”

He sighs. “Addie …” He puts a hand on her arm, but she pulls away. He summons up the courage to do what he needs.

“Look,” he says, carefully avoiding touching her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. And I should never have said you weren’t more important than those surgeries. That was wrong of me.”

She turns. “But it’s true?”

“It’s not true.”

It’s her turn to sigh. “I wish I could believe you.”

“I wish you could too. I love you.”

She half smiles at that, then she points down at the bench they are sitting on. “Eleven years ago, you kissed me for the very first time right here. In that moment, I thought I was so lucky. I thought I had finally found my prince charming.”

Derek smiles now. “You’re not Cinderella,” he says softly, “and I’m definitely not Prince Charming.”

She looks down, begins playing with her fingers.

Derek keeps talking. “But just because our life isn’t a fairytale, doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do love you, Addie. More than you know. This isn’t the end.”

She looks up. “I don’t want to lose you,” she whispers.

“You won’t,” he says, “I promise. You’ll never lose me.”

He leans over then and kisses her. She lets him, then she responds, wrapping her arms around his next.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” she mumbles when he pulls back.

He takes her hand, pulls her up. 

“You won’t ever have to find out,” he says.


	2. Chapter 2

**[Present Day: Derek]**

It was a cold, chilly, sunless day in September. Typical weather for an untypical day. They were the only two in the room. Besides him, of course. He gripped on to his left hand, she was holding on to his right as though her life depended on it. Maybe it did.

She hadn’t said more than three words to him since she had arrived. “Hi,” and “Where’s Mark?” That was it.

She was fighting back tears, but he could tell she was losing the battle. He wanted to tell her it was okay, that it was just him there, but he didn’t. She wasn’t his to comfort anymore, and he had more than enough to worry about.

Instead, he just held Mark’s hand and watched him as the last moments of his life ticked away.

When it was over, neither of them spoke. Or moved. They both just kept looking at Mark, as though they were waiting for him to open his eyes and tell them he was just kidding, that this was all just some really bad joke.

Finally, Addison’s fingers loosened and Mark’s arm hit the bed. Her hands flew to her face and she doubled over. 

“Hey.” Derek placed Mark’s other hand down on the bed and walked over to her, touching her shoulder.

She didn’t look at him, but she shook her head, her fingers still covering her eyes. She let out a very soft moan. 

He hesitated, torn between wanting to pull her into his arms or just letting her be. The door opening made the decision for him.

Richard and Miranda smiled sadly at them both.

“We can take it from here,” Richard said gently.

Addison still had her hands covering her face. Derek wasn’t sure if she had even heard them come in.

“It’s okay,” Derek said. “I want to help.”

Miranda walked over to them. She reached out and put an arm around Addison.

“Come on, honey,” she said gently. To Derek’s surprise, Addison let Miranda help her up. He watched as they both exited the room, the urge to run after them surprisingly strong. He suspected Miranda was taking her up to the daycare. He knew Addison had brought her son, a child he still hadn’t met.

Richard noticed him watching her.

“You can go,” he said. “I’m sure it would help if you two grieve together.”

Derek considered it, sorely tempted, but then he shook his head.

“No,” he said. “My place is here.”

•••

The funeral was held three days later, there in Seattle so Mark could be buried in a place near his daughter. Richard and Miranda helped Derek pull it all together. Addison did, too, but Derek never actually saw her. She made calls and placed orders from somewhere. A hotel room, he assumed, so she could be with Henry. 

He thought about going over to see her. He knew this day had been coming since the moment they found Mark after the crash. He had prepared himself to an extent, but this was something no preparation could ever make easier. 

All around him people were trying to be comforting, smiling sadly at him, touching his arm, asking if there was anything they could do. Some nurses tried to tell awkward stories or pay Mark compliments. Meredith and her friends tried to pretend to care deeply, but it wasn’t the same. None of them could understand. No one had been there.

Except Addison. For so long, it had been the three of them. Heck, Mark had been with him the day they first talked to her. 

They had noticed her the very first day of med school. But that was no surprise. Pretty much every guy in their class had noticed her. The tall, leggy redhead with the big blue eyes whose hand was always the first in the air when the professor had a question.

She was smart, and beautiful. And either painfully shy or horrendously bitchy. Derek and Mark hadn’t decided which. But they had been debating this very thing as they sat at the bar across from campus and slugged back bottles of beer.

“I heard she already turned down six guys who tried to ask her out,” Mark said. “She thinks she’s too good for them. That makes her a bitch.”

Derek shook his head. “It’s not just guys. She barely talks to anyone. I think she’s shy.”

“A girl like that does not need to be shy,” Mark said.

Derek shrugged and took a swallow of his drink.

“Maybe we should ask her ourselves,” he said and motioned for Mark to turn around. There, walking through the door, was the very subject of their conversation. She was dressed in jeans and a long coat, matching the attire of almost everyone else, but somehow she still managed to look out of place.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, her eyes darting around her.

Derek was about to point out that it was the mark of someone who was shy, but before he could, she had shoved her purse further up her shoulder and marched forward to the bar.

He and Mark watched as she smiled at the bartender, maybe flirted a little, and headed off with a martini in the direction of an empty table toward the back.

Mark scoffed as she pulled a book out of the bag on her arm.

“Okay, we’re both wrong,” Mark said, turning back to the bar. “She’s just a nerd.”

“A hot nerd.”

“True. I’d do her.”

Derek scoffed. “You’d do anyone who looked at you. That isn’t saying much.”

Mark looked horrified. “I do have standards.”

“Yes. They need to be female.”

“Ha. Very funny,” he shot back. “At least I have girls. Who’s the last girl you’ve been with?”

“Cleo and I broke up four months ago.”

“So?” Mark said. “What have you been doing since then?”

“I’m not going to just jump into bed with the next girl I see.”

“Why not? It’s fun.”

“It’s not who I am.”

“Well, maybe you should try being someone else at for once.”

“What are you getting at?”

Mark cocked his head. “The redhead.”

Derek frowned. “What? You want me to sleep with her?”

“Why not?”

“You just said she was a nerd.”

“She is. But she’s hot.”

“Mark,” Derek frowned.

“Look,” Mark said, placing his beer down. “What do you have to lose? We can both have a go.”

Derek raised his brows. “I am not having a threesome with you.”

Mark almost spit out his drink. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying let’s go talk to her, have a little fun. We can both sleep with her.”

“You want us both to date her?”

“We’re not going to date her. We’re going to have sex with her.”

“She turned down six guys in our class. What makes you think she’s going to have sex with us?”

“Have you seen us?”

Derek shrugged.

“Man, you gotta trust me. This will be fun.”

Of course, Mark had been wrong. It hadn’t been that easy. And Addison had been much more than a shy, sometimes bitchy, hot nerd. But she had become one of them, and for so long it had been the three of them.

Derek wasn’t prepared for a world where that wasn’t true. Even though Addison had long ago run off to Los Angeles, he still knew she was _there_. For Mark not to be there anymore was breaking his heart.

•••

The first time he saw Addison after Miranda had led her out of the room was at the funeral. She was there before him, her hair pulled back into the most severe looking bun he had ever seen. She was wearing a short-sleeved black dress with delicate looking pearls. She looked perfect, like she always did. He wondered if she’d cried yet.

The funeral was horrible. Meredith stood next to him on one side, holding his hand. Richard stood on his other, every once in a while placing a hand on his shoulder as though to comfort him. But nothing could make this feel any better.

The words of the priest echoed in his head, not making any sense. His own words, during his eulogy, weren’t much better. Addison spoke, too. She was calm and composed and she relayed the story of Mark and Derek first trying to hit on her. 

“I’m going to miss him very much,” she finished. Derek watched her look around the room, her eyes still dry, her face still so very stoic. By this point, he wasn’t even hiding his pain anymore.

The reception was at Meredith’s mom’s house. She had offered, and it just seemed right. Everyone was there, including the children.

Derek was standing in a corner, not really looking at anything, when he saw Addison suddenly dart up. He watched as she handed her son to Miranda, and then she slipped away down the hall.

Somewhere inside him, something flared to life. An instinct, perhaps, that he thought had died many years ago. He knew what was about to happen, and he found himself compelled to follow. 

He made sure no one was looking before he followed her down the hall. She had gone into the bathroom. He followed her into there, too. She was standing by the mirror, tears dripping down her cheeks, shoulders heaving as she gasped for air. Just like he had expected.

Without thinking, he pulled her into his arms, wrapped his arms around her and buried his head in her red locks, which smelled, as he remembered they did, like the warm scent of vanilla. They stood there for a while, him just holding her in his arms, the once familiar feeling comforting in a way he hadn’t expected.

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way.” 

She finally broke the silence, whispering into his chest. He couldn’t help but to nod along.

“It was supposed to be the three of us,” she said, and a new set of tears streamed down her face, soaking the shoulder of his overpriced tux. “Sitting in rockers, old and gray, looking down at Central Park and remembering the good old days. We were supposed to still be teasing Mark about all the women he bedded and teasing you for working too much and you both making fun of me for having too many shoes. We were supposed to have children and grandchildren and we were supposed to watch them play and spoil them and tell them stories from back when we met.”

Her voice broke.

‘He wasn’t supposed to be gone.” Now she began to sob, her voice hitching as her fingers began to clutch at his chest. “Not like this. Not now. He wasn’t supposed to be gone, and you weren’t supposed to be married, and I wasn’t supposed to be barren. And we weren’t supposed to be here, in Seattle. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

Her sobs grew harder and faster, and finally her knees gave way. She would have fallen if he hadn’t caught her, lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her head finding the crook between his shoulder and his chin — her favorite spot.

Maybe it was because of that — an action so familiar and yet so painfully nostalgic — or maybe it was the shared grief between them, a loss that no one else could even come close to understanding, but in that moment he needed something, needed it desperately. Something only she could give him and something he knew only he could give her.

He kissed her. It caught her by surprise. He knew it did because she gasped softly, but she didn’t push him away. Instead, she tightened her grip around his neck and met his lips with hers.

He laid her down on the floor and, without stopping to think, he carefully slid her dress up past her hips and her panties down her legs. There was no preamble before he slipped inside. It was soft and gentle. They both cried the whole time. Addison kept her head buried in the crook of his shoulder, and her fingers grabbed at his hair. 

He wasn’t sure if it was guilt in her eyes when they finished, or just pain, but she kissed him one last time and whispered “Sorry,” into his chest. Repeating it over and over until it lost all meaning.


	3. Chapter 3

**[Addison]**

It had been one of the worst weeks of her life. Derek had called her while she was sitting on her deck, feeding Henry, watching the waves roar to shore. He told her that Mark wasn’t doing well and that maybe it would be good if she came right then.

So she did. She finished feeding Henry, packed their bags and headed to the airport, all the while holding back tears and trying not to drop Henry because her hands were so shaky. 

Somewhere, though, between Los Angeles and Seattle, some twenty thousand feet above the world, Addison’s WASPy upbringing began to kick into gear. Maybe it was self-defense, a way to protect herself from things she wasn’t ready to feel. Maybe it was going back to Seattle, back to the city where she always had to struggle to not let anyone see who she really was.

She wasn’t sure, but she was glad when it happened. Since the day she had seen the place crash on the news, her worst fears comfirmed by a call from Richard, she had already cried too many tears. And now she has Henry. She couldn’t afford to lose it completely.

She fixed her clothes, smoothed out the wrinkles, brushed her hair and reapplied her makeup. She changed Henry and rocked him back to sleep. And then she stared out the window of the plane, down into the fog-covered world below her, and tried desperately not to imagine one of her best friends injured and dying. She also tried not to think about Derek. It had been a long time since she had seen him, the last before she and Sam had even made their awful attempt at dating.

She talked to him all the time, but it wasn’t the same. Her nerves and her emotions had always been her downfall when it came to Derek Shepherd, but she was a mom now. She had a boyfriend. She needed to not let him affect her.

By the time the plane landed, she was cool, composed and polite. She could handle anything.

She marched purposely toward the terminal, but froze when she saw Richard waiting for her.

She had not expected that.

“Hello, Addison.” He looked tired, he sounded grave.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice faltered, and she tightened her grip on Henry, as though the baby could keep her anchored to sanity.

He didn’t answer. He just looked at her, his eyes boring into hers. She realized a little too late that the words she felt about to come were the one thing she couldn’t handle.

_Derek said there was time!_ , she wanted to scream.

Instead, she stumbled slightly as she tried to move closer to him, and all of a sudden, she felt frozen, trapped in some invisible forcefield.

Richard still hadn’t answered her.

“Just tell me,” she whispered. Her voice came out as a squeak.

“Derek wanted me to come get you,” he said. 

She waited. She knew it was coming. She could feel it.

“He has at most a couple of hours.”

•••

It would probably go down as one of the most mortifying moments of her life. She didn’t even remember it happening. One minute she was waiting for Richard to tell her about Mark, the next thing she knew she was blinking back into consciousness, lying on hard ground and staring up at a handful of paramedics who were hovering above her, their hands all over her, trying to make sure she was okay.

“Where’s Henry?”

It was the only thing she could think to say. She tried to sit up, but they were holding her down, and she couldn’t see anything apart from these stranger’s faces looking at her.

“Henry?”

She tried again. She felt like her world was spinning out of control. She needed the one person who could make it seem less scary. Plus she needed to make sure she hadn’t hurt her son.

The paramedics were still talking to her, but she had stopped listening. She spit out a few “I’m fines,” but they weren’t letting her up. She wasn’t sure whether she was going to scream or cry, but then Richard was there and he was handing her Henry, placing her son back in her arms. 

Henry was crying but he appeared unscathed, and she exhaled in relief. She twisted her head to see Richard talking to the paramedics, somehow assuring them that she really was fine and that he was a doctor and that he could take care of her.

He studied her for a second after they finally started to leave, and she felt her face flush.

Luckily, he didn’t say anything, just helped her up, grabbed her luggage and walked her and Henry to the car.

She was silent the entire way to the hospital.

•••

The hospital was like a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. She felt like there was a throng of people, just watching her every move, as Richard led her through the halls, took Henry from her and directed her over to Derek.

Derek was watching her coming, his eyes full of sadness and grief. Addison couldn’t think about that or focus on him. She knew she would lose it if she did.

“Hi,” she managed to breath out. “Where’s Mark?”

He led her into an almost silent room. The figure on the bed was at once so familiar and so foreign. She’d never seen him like that before, and it stung more than she ever thought was possible.

She knew what was coming next, but she didn’t want to admit it. She walked over to Mark’s right side and took his hand. She saw Derek take his other one.

They sat there, the two of them, holding Mark’s hands for what felt like hours. Words spun in her head, climbed up her throat, just wanting to burst out into the air, but she forced them down. She knew if she said anything she would lose it, and Derek lost that right long ago to see her at her worst.

The more she sat there, beside them both, the more she felt like she couldn’t breath. She wanted to throw herself on top of Mark, lie beside him one more time. She wanted to open her mouth and say all the things she never got to say. She wanted to hold him, kiss him, feel his skin under her fingers.

Instead she just sat there and watched as he left her, as his breathing slowed and vanished, as his heart stopped. 

The room was deathly silent, her and Derek just sitting there, neither of them moving. Until she felt the sob climbing up her throat and she couldn’t help it. Her hands flew to her face as she fought for control.

She didn’t realize anyone else was in the room until Miranda was pulling her to her feet. Another moment to add to her ever-mounting embarrassment, she thought, as Miranda led her from the room. Derek, the ever composed and stoic, was in there helping Richard and she was being looked at like a fragile porcelain doll.

She picked Henry up at the daycare and professed more than once to Miranda that she was fine. Fortunately, Miranda was distracted by others who were ready and eager to pass on the gossip.

Addison took her cue, spinning around and disappearing. No one noticed. There was a line of people who wanted to pay their respects, and she didn’t belong in that line anymore. She was an outsider now, even if she knew him better than all of them put together.

She ended up on a bar stool in front of a familiar face. He had heard the news; he knew what happened. He wasn’t surprised to see her — in Seattle or in front of him. 

He didn’t try to say anything, just poured her a martini and let her be.

Time passed, people began to filter in, but she didn’t pay attention. She wasn’t ready to deal with anyone or anything yet. Until a voice came from right beside her.

“A baby in a bar. You always were very classy.”

She almost smiled at that, and through the numbness that had finally begun to seep over her, she felt a slight warmth.

She looked at the man beside her and down at the baby in the arms.

“This is Henry,” she said. “Henry,” she told the baby, “this is Alex. He was one of Mommy’s naughty interns.”

Alex smirked at that, then let Henry grab one of his fingers.

“He’s gorgeous,” Alex told her and she did really smile that time.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Tell me about him,” he said, so she did.

Somewhere during their conversation, she realizes what he was trying to do, and she frowned.

“Did Derek put you up to this?” she accused.

“What?” Alex blinked at her. “What did Derek put me up to?”

“Talking to me.” She realized how stupid it sounded the second the words left her mouth. 

But Alex just shrugged. “And what if he had?”

Addison didn’t answer. Just took another sip of her drink.

•••

The funeral was three days later, and she was not anywhere close to ready. She had spent the entire past seventy-two hours locked in her hotel room with Henry, ignoring calls from Jake and helping Derek with funeral plans via texts and emails. She didn’t belong in Seattle, she couldn’t grieve with Derek — he had a wife, after all — and she had never felt more alone.

But Mark was her friend and she had loved him and she needed to say goodbye. So she woke up early, pulled her hair up, slipped on her black dress, dropped Henry off at the hospital daycare for a few hours and went to the funeral, where she pretended to the world that she was okay even as words she didn’t know she was saying spilled from her lips during his eulogy.

The reception was even worse. Of course it had to be at Meredith’s house. Of course it did. Because the ghosts of the past loved nothing more than to haunt her. 

She tried to make small talk, to distract herself with Henry, but then it happened. She looked up, and Derek was looking at her, his eyes focused directly on her. And all of a sudden it was ten years ago and she wasn’t okay.

She shoved Henry into Miranda’s arms, mumbled something about needing to find the bathroom and made her escape. 

She wasn’t a moment too soon. As soon as the door clicked close behind her, the tears sprung loose, springing from a well deep inside her. There was nothing she could do but let them flow.

She didn’t even notice at first that he had followed her, until he was pulling her into his arms and she was sobbing out all of her pain.

‘He wasn’t supposed to be gone. Not like this. Not now. He wasn’t supposed to be gone, and you weren’t supposed to be married, and I wasn’t supposed to be barren. And we weren’t supposed to be here, in Seattle. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.”

Her hands were grasping at his suit jacket, and words were just flowing from her mouth. And then all of a sudden his lips were on hers.

She gasped, taken aback. But he was still kissing her, and his hands were holding her and it felt so right.

And then they were on the ground, and he was inside her. And then she was crying and whispering she was sorry.

Except she didn’t want to be sorry. She didn’t want to be feeling.

So this time she kissed him. Hard. Shoved her tongue in his mouth and clawed her hands down his chest. He responded in kind. 

There was nothing loving about it, not this time. There wasn’t anything gentle either. Not that there should have been. After all, this was probably the last thing they should be doing.

Her head was spinning.

They were at his funeral, for goodness sake. _His funeral._ Mark, his best friend —her best friend — was gone. Forever. Lost because of a fucking plane crash that came out of nowhere.

She realized now that she had been numb since the plane ride four days ago. It was like she had been living in a fog. Nothing felt real. Nothing felt right.

Nothing felt at all. Which was the whole problem.

She couldn’t feel anything. Pain, grief, guilt. None of it. All she had been doing was moving through the motions.

Until now.

Now that she had her legs locked around his waist and he had her pinned up against the bathroom wall in Meredith’s house, her arms above her head, her wrists trapped in one of his hands. His teeth were at her neck, biting into her skin, drawing specks of blood. His other hand was at her hip, his fingers digging so hard into her flesh she could almost feel the bruises forming.

It felt so wrong. Yet it felt so good. And it was so nice to feel something, even if that something was pain.

At least, that’s what she told herself as he drove into her, harder and harder and harder. And that’s what she told herself when he released her wrists to rub harshly at her clit, making her cry out, her fingers using their freedom to make their way to the soft flesh on his back, leaving marks of their own.

“The pain is good,” she reminded herself when she finally clenched around him, her head flying backward and smacking into the wall behind her. “The pain is good,” she reminded herself when they were finished and were cleaning themselves up, blatantly ignoring the other.

“It didn’t mean anything,” she told herself when they snuck back into the reception and she was met with the sight of his wife and his daughter and her son. “It didn’t mean anything,” she told herself that night when she stared at her naked body in the mirror, her fingertips tracing gently around the mottled blue and purple specks that now dotted her thighs and her hips.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she said to him the next day as he pushed her down on the on-call room bed and yanked her skirt up above her waist.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agreed, as he shoved her panties to the side and slid inside her, not even bothering to ask her if she was ready.

“It’s just nice to feel something,” she said, as she wrapped her legs around his waist and tried not to wince in pain.

“It is,” he said, seconds before his lips found hers, both of them rough and bruising against the other.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered again when they were finished, laying side by side, her head on his chest.

“It definitely doesn’t,” he said the next day, an hour before she left for the airport to go back home, as his lips met hers once more.


	4. Chapter 4

[Derek]

He felt guilty. Except that he didn’t. Which made him feel even more guilty.

What happened with Addison shouldn’t have happened. He knew that. But the grief of losing Mark, and the pain of the last few months, and seeing her there. Derek had tried to talk to Meredith about Mark, about what Mark’s death had done to him, and she had tried to understand, but it was like there was a wall between them. The chasm between them was getting bigger, and in that moment, Derek had needed someone who would understand. And so it had happened.

The worst part was Derek wasn’t even sure he regretted it.

Addison had left two days after Mark’s funeral. She went back to her world and Derek stayed in his. He didn’t think he would hear from her.

She called him two days later, late at night when he was still at the hospital, tired from a surgery but not quite ready to go home. He was rummaging around in his locker, trying to find his wallet so he could go grab a coffee.

“Hello?” He answered the call without looking to see who was calling. 

“It’s me.”

His hand froze. He sank backward on to the bench.

“Addie.”

“Do you have a few minutes?” she asked. He thought he heard her voice quiver but he wasn’t sure.

He nodded, then realized she couldn’t see him. “Of course.”

There was a long pause. Finally, she spoke. 

“I don’t know what to do.”

He knew exactly what she meant. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated. “I love Jake.”

“I love Meredith.” He felt like he should say it.

“I don’t want to lose him,” she said.

“No one has to know,” he said. “It happened, it’s over, it’s not going to happen again.”

“Yeah …” This time he was sure her voice quivered. “I just …” She trailed off.

“You just what?”

“I just don’t want to be this person.”

“What person?”

“A cheater.”

They were both silent then, her regret hanging over both of them like a heavy weight. For a second, it was seven years ago and he was walking down a dark hallway, knowing what he was going to find.

The shock and the horror and the pain of that night. The revelation that had ended their marriage.

For the first time since he and Addison had sex at Mark’s funeral, Derek found himself consumed with guilt. 

“I’m sorry,” he told her.

“That’s the thing,” she said. “I’m not sure I am.”

•••

They agreed it was better to keep it a secret. Guilt or regret or not, it hadn’t meant anything, it had just happened, it wasn’t worth losing their entire lives over. He had a wife and a child. She had a boyfriend, who really, really loved her, and she had the child she had always wanted.

What was between them was over, finished, in the past, never to happen again.

She kept calling, though. Not all the time, sometimes more frequently than others. Most of the time, they just exchanged pleasantries, caught up a little on the other’s life. He figured she felt like he did — they were each other’s only connection now to Mark and a past that no one else could understand.

He told her about the hospital and occasionally mentioned Meredith and Zola. She told him about the practice and Henry and occasionally mentioned Jake. He was happy for her that she had finally found someone who could love her like she deserved. He assumed Jake loved her like that, anyway. He hoped he did.

The day she told him Jake had proposed, leaving out pretty much every detail, he told her he was really happy for her. And he meant it. But he spent that night, lying in bed, remembering a young, redheaded bride beaming at him from under her lacy veil, while something like regret danced in his stomach.

He convinced himself it was just nostalgia.

The call that changed everything came at midnight on a Saturday in late November, not more than two minutes after he slipped into bed. He thought about ignoring it and just not answering, but as soon as the first note of his phone’s ringtone had sounded, he knew who was going to be on the other end.

“It’s fine,” he murmured to Meredith, who was curled up next to him. He grabbed his phone and headed out into the other room.

“Addison,” he said as soon as he answered. He knew before she even said a word that she was crying. Maybe because he knew what night it was — her bachelorette party — and he knew she wouldn’t be calling him for any other reason. She wasn’t like that. Amelia had given him more details about her relationship with Jake than Addison had, and it wasn’t because Derek talked to Amelia more.

He also remembered only too well, Addison’s first bachelorette party, and a feeling of déjà vu washed over him.

“D-D-Derek.”

She was drunk. The slight slur in her voice was a dead giveaway. Though he should have guessed as soon as he answered the phone that she was, because ninety percent of the time Addison let someone else know she was crying was due in part to a few glasses of gin. Why should tonight be any different?

The feeling of déjà vu grew stronger.

“I’m here,” he said. “What’s going on?”

“I’m lost” came the reply.

“You’re lost?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“What do you mean you’re lost?”

Addison didn’t answer, but he heard her sniffle. He tried a different approach.

“Addison, where’s Amelia?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, where’s … what’s her name? Charlotte?”

“I don’t know.”

“How about Naomi? Do you know where she is?”

“Noooooo ….” Addison sniffled again and he heard her choke back a sob.

“Okay.” He took a deep breath, forced himself to stay calm. He was half tempted to just hang up her and go back to bed. Sometimes, not being with her, he forgot how frustratingly stubborn she could be when it came to revealing information. It had taken so much effort on his part sometimes to get her to open up even a little bit that he had just stopped bothering to try.

But yet, he couldn’t bring himself to hang up on her. Not this time. Maybe it was because he could hear her stilted breathing on the other end, the occasional sniffles. Her tears had always broken his heart. That part never changed.

“Addison,” he said as gently as he could. “Do you know where you are?”

“No.”

“You don’t know where you are? You have to be somewhere?”

“Bathroom,” she finally said.

“Okay,” he said. Not much help, but it was a start. “Are you at a restaurant? A bar? A club?”

“A bar?”

“Is that a question?”

“A bar,” she repeated.

“Okay,” he said. “Do you know the name?”

“No.”

“Are you sure you don’t know the name?”

She didn’t answer.

“Addie?”

“Derek?” Her voice was so quiet he could barely hear her.

“I’m here.”

“I think I’m lost,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said.

“No,” she said, “I think I’m lost.”

And Derek’s heart shattered as he finally realized what she meant.

•••

_[Eighteen years earlier]_

“Oh my god, Derek, just drink a beer. She’s going to be fine.”

Mark shoved a beer into his hand as Derek watched the front door to their apartment clicked closed behind Addison and his sisters and her girl friends. He could still hear them giggling as they all made their way down the hall and out front to the limo waiting for them.

Mark stared him up and down, waiting for Derek to open his beer.

“What do you think is going to happen anyway?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “It’s a bachelorette party. They’re going to go dance and drink and maybe remember nothing in the morning. That’s it. She’s not going to cheat on you.”

Derek took a swig of his beer and glared at Mark. “I know she’s not going to cheat on me,” he hissed.

“Then what the hell are you so damn worried about? Come on. Let’s watch the game.”

Derek decided it was best not to answer. It was just a feeling anyway. Addison had seemed fine before she left. She was smiling and happy, and she had wrapped her arms around him and kissed him hard on the lips before she left.

“In two weeks,” she had whispered, “we’re finally going to be married.”

And then she had laid her head on his chest and let him hold her for a few seconds before Naomi and his sisters called for her, and she went back to them.

Mark was right, he told himself, already draining his first beer. What could possibly happen?

What could happen was a phone call that came three hours later, from a payphone somewhere in the middle of Manhattan with a horrible connection.

He could barely hear her or make out his words, but he could tell for sure she was crying.

“I want to come home,” he heard her sob. “Can you come get me?”

“Addie, where are you? What happened?”

But the phone call was lost and she was gone. He spent the next hour in a panic. His sisters hadn’t even told him where they had planning to go. They could be anywhere.

He gulped down beers, stared blindly at the TV and let horrible scenarios of Addison, alone and drunk and possibly hurt, run through his head. He was about ten seconds away from calling the police — even though Mark kept saying if something was really wrong his sisters would have called — when the phone rang again.

This time it was his sister Nancy.

“What happened?” he almost shouted. “Is she okay?”

“She’s … fine,” Nancy said quickly. “Physically anyway.”

“What does that mean?” He had to force himself to lower his voice.

On the other end of the phone, Nancy sighed. She sounded like she didn’t really want to tell him.

“Let’s just say your fiancée got a little too drunk, and a guy got a little too friendly on the dance floor.”

Derek felt his blood boil. “What does that mean?” he almost hissed.

“Derek, calm down,” Nancy said quickly. “She’s fine. He tried to kiss her. She pushed him away. Kathleen beat him up.”

She paused.

“Go on,” Derek said.

“And then we lost her?”

“You lost her? Addison?”

“Yes, Addison.”

“You _lost her_?”

“Don’t worry,” Nancy said, and she sounded almost like their mom when she was scolding all her wayward children. “We found her. She just got freaked out and disappeared, and no one knew where she went. I think she called you?”

“Yes, she called me,” Derek said, then added, almost bitterly. “She was crying.”

“She was freaked,” Nancy said. “But we found her. She’s okay. But, ummm …”

She paused again.

“Just tell me,” Derek said.

This time Nancy let out a really exasperated sigh, like she couldn’t believe she was having to even say these words out loud.

“But now she’s drunk and crying and she wants you and she’s locked herself in the bathroom. Can you come?”

Forty-five minutes later, Derek found himself at the fanciest downtown hotel he had ever been to. Nancy met him in the lobby, a look of exasperation on her face.

“Your fiancée is very dramatic,” she told him. “And she is stubborn as hell.”

Derek couldn’t help but smile at that. “That she is.”

“Are you sure you want to marry this girl?”

For a second, rage burned inside Derek as he whirled on his sister. But then he saw the look in her eyes and it died away.

“I’m sure,” he said, and she nodded. 

“That’s good,” Nancy said, “because when she’s not being overly dramatic and stubborn as a mule, she’s really quite sweet. But I’d be wary of any children you two have. If they are at all like their parents, you will be in for a world of hurt.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said wryly.

She led him up to the fourth-fifth floor and down the hall. She opened the door and they walked inside. Girls were stretched out all over the gigantic room, and the door to the bathroom was closed.

“We also have the room next door,” Nancy said. “We’ll all be there. Good luck!”

A few seconds later, he was alone in the giant room. He made his way across the floor to the bathroom. He leaned his ear against it, but he couldn’t make out any sounds.

He knocked. “Addison?”

There was no answer. He knocked again.

“Addie, let me in,” he said. “I know you’re there.”

A few moments later, he heard the lock click. He twisted the knob, pushed open the door and walked inside.

She was sitting on the floor, still in the black skirt and white top she had been in earlier when they had headed out. There was a tiara or something stuck in her hair. 

The air in the bathroom was putrid, and he noticed right away, she had missed the toilet a little.

She looked up at him as he entered.

“I don’t feel good,” she whispered.

“I can see that,” he softly.

He picked up a washcloth from the sink and passed it under the tap. Then he made his way over to her, dropping down beside her. He used the cloth to dab the last remnants of vomit from her chin and her hands and then he cleaned up the places where she’d missed.

He helped her out of her clothes and tossed them into the shower to deal with later, then pulled her, now clad only in a pair of black panties, into his arms.

Immediately, she nestled her head in her favorite spot between his neck and his shoulder.

He stroked her hair. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he said.

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you for coming.” She tilted her head to look up at him. Her eyes were red, and tears still glistened on her cheeks.

“I’ll always come, Addison, whenever you need me.”

She put her head back down.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too.” And he sat there holding her until she drifted off to sleep.

•••

_[Present Day]_

Derek closed his eyes, his hand clenched around his phone. That had been his one weakness, his mother had always told him; he wanted to save everyone, especially the damsels in distress.

But as much as her tears were cutting into his very soul, Addison wasn’t his to save anymore.

“Addison,” he told her now, “you’re not lost. You just got a little misplaced. I’m going to hang up and I’m going to call Amelia and she’s going to coming get you and you’re going to be fine.”

“You’re going to leave me?”

“Addison, I’m not there. I can’t leave you.”

“But Derek …” Her voiced quivered.

He forced himself to spit out the next words.

“You should call Jake,” he said, “He’s your fiancé.”

She was quiet for a few moments, but he could hear her breathing, almost as though he could hear her weighing her next words in her head.

But she was drunk and she was emotional and that was never a good combination.

“What if I’m not sure that I love him?” Her words came out in a rush. Derek felt himself pale.

There was only one thing to do.

“I don’t think I should be the one you’re talking to about that. I’ll call Amelia. Bye, Addison.”

He forced himself to hang up the phone. Fortunately for him, he only got Amelia’s voicemail. He left her a message, telling her Addison was looking for her but not mentioning how he knew. 

Then he put his phone on silent and forced himself to go back to bed.

He woke up in the morning to a text from Naomi.

_All you’re going to do is hurt her again._

He quickly texted back. _I’m not doing anything._

_That isn’t what I heard._

Fuck.

Derek slammed his phone down on the bedside table.

“Derek?” Meredith was in front of him, Zola in her eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Just fucking great.”

And he pressed delete on the texts in his phone.


	5. Chapter 5

**[Addison]**

She definitely hadn’t meant to spend part of her evening hiding in a bathroom stall, sobbing on the phone to her ex-husband. And she definitely, definitely hadn’t meant to tell him she wasn’t sure how she felt about Jake.

She hadn’t actually meant to tell anyone that.

Because she loved Jake. She did. She loved Jake with all her heart. He was the most perfect guy she could ever have imagined. He loved her, fully and completely, despite her many, many flaws. He put up with her when she was stubborn and when she was neurotic and he reassured her time after time that he loved her. 

And, she had to admit, he knew how to deal with her. He didn’t yell at her or lash out at her when she said something he didn’t like. He confronted her and made her deal with it. He was, by far, the most mature man she had ever dated in her life.

He would make an amazing husband and an even better father to Henry. This she knew. This she told herself day after day after day.

And she hated herself for the fact that the minute something went wrong, it was Derek who she called.

They had been at a bar, drinking, talking, having a good time.

“Tell me all about Jake,” Naomi had said, and Amelia had jumped in, gushing over him, how cute he was, how perfect he was.

Even Charlotte and Violet had joined in, all of them painting this picture of a saint who could do no wrong.

Addison stood at the end of the table, pretending to smile, downing drink after drink, images of Derek flashing through her head — Derek peeling her clothes off her, Derek shoving her down on an on-call room bed just feet from his wife and her son, Derek inside her while he kissed her gently. The way she held on to him and felt safe in his arms, the way he followed her into the bathroom when he knew he was upset, the way he could just look at her from across a room and suddenly she was weak-kneed.

“You are so lucky!” Naomi exclaimed now, grinning at Addison.

Addison couldn’t take it. She had to get out of there.

“Excuse me,” she muttered, and she dashed away, before they could stop her, pushing her way through the crowds, wanting to get as far away from them as possible. She spotted another bar and ordered a drink, wondering how long it would be before they found her.

But all she could hear were their words about how perfect Jake was and all she could see was Derek’s eyes peering at her as he thrust his fingers inside her.

So she kept drinking and the drinks kept coming, and next thing she knew she was in a bathroom, sitting on the toilet and sobbing into her hands. 

And then she was calling him, because for fifteen-plus years, he was always the one she called whenever she needed anything and, apparently for her, old habits never could die.

“You should call Jake,” he was saying to her, “He’s your fiancé.”

And he was, and she knew Derek was right. She _knew_ he was. But all of a sudden it was eighteen years ago and Derek was holding her on the floor of another bathroom the night of another bachelorette party, and she knew. The way that girl felt about that man so many years ago was not how she felt about _this_ man right now.

And then she was talking out loud. 

“What if I’m not sure that I love him?” 

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. Before they left, actually. She could almost physically hear Derek pale at her words. And she couldn’t blame him. He had told her what had happened meant nothing, that it was just grief talking, that people would only be hurt unnecessarily if they told anyone. He loved Meredith — he had chosen Meredith over _her_ after all — and he didn’t want to leave. And she had insisted she didn’t want to leave Jake either. 

But now, here she was, saying something she only just realized.

“I don’t think I should be the one you’re talking to about that,” Derek said from the other end of the line. “I’ll call Amelia. Bye, Addison.”

And then he was gone. And all she could do was bury her head in her hands and begin to sob.  
Amelia found her like that, probably from her overly high heels peeking out below the stall. She knocked on the stall door, startling Addison from her tears.

“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Amelia called, not unkindly. Through her tears, Addison let out a soft breath. Derek must not have said anything to her about what she had said to him. Amelia probably just thought she was drunk and stupid and nervous about the wedding. After all, she messed up her first marriage thoroughly, it was probably no surprise she would be nervous about another one.

“I’m okay,” Addison said, unlocking the stall door, standing up and straightening herself out. She brushed the wrinkles out of her skirt and tried to wipe the tears off her face, but as soon as she stepped out, Amelia’s face turned sympathetic.

“You’re a mess,” Amelia said. “I need to stop letting you drink. You freak out too much.”

Then Amelia was grabbing her wrist and leading her over to the sink. It was humiliating, standing there as person after person entered the bathroom and stared at her, as Amelia tried to clean her up, but it was more humiliating to know she had blurted out to Derek that she wasn’t sure if she loved her fiancé and he had hung up on her.

Naomi was waiting at a more secluded table this time when Amelia brought her back out. Addison wasn’t sure where Violet and Charlotte had gone off too.

“Crying in the bathroom?” Naomi teased her gently. “Now this is déjà vu.”

She meant it as a joke. Addison knew that. But it was too much. An image of Derek holding her on the bathroom floor popped into her head. Waking up that night in his arms, still sitting on the floor, and kissing him. Derek making her brush her teeth before he led her to the big bed in the middle of the room with too many pillows and too warm a comforter. Derek lying her down and removing her panties and kissing her between her legs until she begged him to stop teasing her and just be with her. Falling asleep again in his arms, safe and protected and loved.

Now, here, at the table with Naomi and Amelia, it was too much. She burst into tears again, her face flushing automatically and her mother’s stern voice flashing through her mind.

“Montgomeries do _not_ cry in public. If you _have_ to do that, do it in your room. I don’t want to see you.”

But still, she couldn’t help it. 

Instantly, Naomi’s hand was covering her own, trying to soothe her.

“Oh, sweetie, I didn’t mean it like that,” Naomi said.

Addison shook her head. “I did something really, really stupid.”

She hadn’t meant to say it — she had rather intended to go to her grave with it — but her tears and the memories and the pain in her chest. It was almost a relief to get it out there, where she knew she couldn’t escape.

“What did you do?” Naomi said, and her voice grew hard. Addison flushed more. They were going to hate her. So was Jake.

And suddenly she couldn’t answer. She just covered her face with her hands and cried harder.

She heard Amelia mutter beside her. “I am going to kill him,” and she had a feeling Amelia knew just what stupid thing she had done. Maybe she had known since Addison had returned from Seattle and had refused to talk about anything with anyone. Maybe Derek had said something …

No, Derek wouldn’t have said anything.

Naomi removed her hand from Addison’s.

“Addison,” she said, and her voice was slightly cold. “Please don’t tell me you did what I think you are going to tell me you did.”

Addison dropped her hands and looked at Naomi. She didn’t say a word, but she knew Naomi could see it in her eyes.

“How could you do that?” she whispered.

Addison shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, “It hurt so bad. I missed Mark so much. And he was there.”

_He was just there, Derek! I don’t know how it happened._

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. How did she always do this, how did she always ruin the things she loved, the people who loved her?

Naomi was almost glaring at her now. Addison wished she could sink into a puddle and disappear. Make things easier on everything.

“Please don’t tell Jake,” she heard herself whisper.

Naomi’s expression turned into a definite glare now. “I won’t tell him,” she said, and her voice was like ice. “But I think you should.”

“I can’t.” Addison’s voice cracked. “He’ll leave me. … And Derek and I. It didn’t mean anything.” She met Naomi’s eyes, tried to control herself. “It didn’t mean anything,” she repeated.

Naomi didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure about that?”

Addison nodded. But she was anything but sure.

•••

The morning of her wedding dawned bright blue and sunny. The perfect weather for the perfect day. No one — Naomi, Amelia or her — had made any mention of what Addison had told them the night of her disastrous bachelorette party. Derek hadn’t contacted her again since then either. Not even to wish her luck.

She tried not to feel disappointed or hurt by that.

He had a lot to lose if Meredith ever found out. And Addison knew no matter how she felt about Derek, he did not return the sentiment. He wanted Meredith, not her. Not that she wanted him. If Derek came to the door now and told her he wanted her, she …

Addison shook her head. This was her wedding day. She shouldn’t be thinking about things like that.

Luckily, there was too much going on to be thinking about that. Amelia and Violet and Charlotte and Naomi were all there, all helping her, doing her hair, helping her into her dress, changing Henry into the cutest little tuxedo she had ever seen.

Everyone was talking and laughing and smiling. A feeling of excitement was in there. 

She was trembling. Amelia noticed.

“Addie,” she whispered, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I love him,” Addison whispered back, hoarsely. 

“Yes,” Amelia said. “But are you _in love_ with him?”

Addison didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. There was a knock at the door.

Violet answered it. She heard a man’s voice and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest.

“I’d like to see Addison.”

Naomi got there first, blocking him from Addison’s view.

“Derek,” she said, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I think Addison should be the one to decide that.”

“I’m not sure she should.”

“What is going on?” Violet looked confused. Addison pushed her way forward.

“Derek,” she said, and she was amazed she actually managed to get her voice under control. She sounded stern, and firm. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you.” She waited. He looked around. “Alone.”

She nodded.

“Oh, no,” Naomi said. 

Addison looked at her, met her eyes. “Please?” she whispered. She knew Naomi was trying to protect her — or at least trying to make sure she didn’t do anything else stupid — but this was her life, and this was Derek, and she had to know why he was here. She owed herself that.

“Don’t be stupid,” was all Naomi said and she walked toward the door, pausing to whisper something that Addison couldn’t hear to Derek.

Charlotte, Violet and Amelia followed her out. Derek waited till the door closed firmly behind them all before stepping forward.

Addison held out her hands, palms up. She took a step back. 

“What are you doing here?”

To his credit, Derek stopped moving. “I’ve been thinking.”

Addison shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I don’t want to see you make a mistake,” Derek said. His voice was surprisingly gentle. She hadn’t heard him talk to her like that in years.

The look in his eyes, too. She couldn’t look away, memories flashing through her mind faster than she could stop them.

Him kissing her for the first time on a bench in Central Park, him making love to her on an old shabby futon in her apartment, him proposing to her on top of the Empire State Building by placing the ring in front of the viewfinders she was looking through. The look in his eyes as she walked down the aisle, the look in his eyes as he took her hand and promised till death did them part, the look in his eyes when he kissed her later on the dance floor and promised her he was hers forever.

The look in his eyes then that was the same look as in his eyes now.

“No.” She stumbled backward, hit a chair, and sank into it. 

He took that as a sign and moved toward her again.

“I don’t want to see you make a mistake.”

“That’s not up to you!”

“I care about you.”

“You don’t!”

“I still love you.”

“ _Get out!_ ”

She was on her feet now, her mind reeling, her world spinning. This could not be happening to her right now.

“Addison …”

“You have a wife!” She was almost shouting. “You have a wife who you love and who you won’t leave. You have no right to tell me what to do!”

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do!” His voice rose to match hers. “I don’t want to see you get hurt!”

“Jake loves me. He loves Henry. He isn’t going to hurt me! He loves me.”

“But do you love him?”

“ _Get out!_ ” And she was shoving him toward the door, her breath ragged, tears stinging her eyes. 

He let her push him, almost tripping as she did so. But then, steps from the door, he stopped, grabbed her arm, leaned in and kissed her.

Rough but tender, hard but sweet. His lips pushed against her, his hands clasped her head. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

She wanted it to go on forever and she wanted it to end that very second.

And then he was gone. He stopped kissing her, let her go and was out the door before she couldn’t even begin to think. She felt herself begin to shake, and she crumpled to the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**[Derek]**

He was sitting by the ocean, staring into the blue void, his mind going over and over everything that had happened these past few weeks, these past few _days_ when she appeared. He saw her from the corner of his eye, a vision in white. Her bridal veil was still over her head.

He turned his head, to ask her why she was there, but he only had a split second to make out the red and the puffiness of her eyes before she launched herself at him, knocking him backward into the sand, her fists trying to beat him to a bloody pulp while she made a sound somewhere between a cry of rage and the whimpering of a wounded animal.

Derek managed to grab her wrists, before she could hurt him, and pushed her off of him, rolling so he was on top of her, holding her down.

“What is wrong with you?” He managed, though it was a stupid question. He knew what was wrong with her. Just the fact that she was there, looking like that, gave away what had just happened. And he knew it was his fault.

What had possessed him to jump in the car yesterday afternoon and drive without stopping all the way to Los Angeles? He left surgeries on the board, Zola in daycare, Meredith at the hospital. He didn’t even bother to tell her in person, just left her a note.

_There’s something I need to do._

It was stupid and self-destructive and not good for anyone. Definitely not for him and definitely not for Addison. They had agreed, he and Addison, not to say anything, to keep it their secret. They had agreed it had been a mistake, been due all to grief, and it didn’t mean anything more. 

He had a wife and a daughter who he knew he loved. She had a fiancé and a son who he knew she thought she loved. Well, he knew she loved Henry, but he had questioned her love for Jake for a while.

But it wasn’t his business. If Addison wanted to marry someone, that was her choice. If she wanted a father to her son and he was a good man, why shouldn’t she get what to do what he wanted. It wasn’t up to him to tell her otherwise.

Except he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop the images. Addison on the floor of Meredith’s bathroom, her red hair spread out all around her like a halo, her back arching up as she trembled beneath his touch. Addison underneath him on the on-call room bed, the way her fingers stroked through his hair, soft and gentle, even as the rest of their movements were rough and hard and bruising. Addison, as he imagined her, hunched in a bathroom stall, calling him to come and get her, the way she had so many times in the past.

Addison, at twenty-seven, a light in her eyes that had long ago died out as she looked at him, pure unadulterated love shining across her face, throwing her arms around is neck and whispering, “Yes! Yes! Yes! I do! I do! I do!” over and over again into his ear.

It was that image that replayed itself like an un-ending film strip as he sped down Interstate 5 last night and early this morning. It was that image that was replaying repeatedly as he called Sam and begged him to tell him where Addison was getting read. And it was that image he saw when he kissed her one last time as she was trying to push him out the door.

Now, though, looking at her, he saw an entirely different image.

She was furious, rage-filled, but more than that, she was broken. He could see it in her eyes as she tried desperately to get out of his grip. She was squirming around, trying to kick him, but he was on top of her and all she was doing was wrapping her wedding dress tighter and tighter around herself.

“I _hate_ you!” 

This time, he could clearly make out her words. He also noticed the rivulets of tears streaming down her cheeks. 

She continued to struggle against him, trying to kick him with her spiky white heels.

“Let me go! I hate you! Let me go!” She screamed.

“Addison!” She was thrashing so much, he had to work harder to keep her in place. He was beginning to fear she was not just going to hurt him, but hurt herself as well. “What is wrong with you?”

As if he didn’t know.

 _“You ruined my life!”_

Her words hit him hard in the gut. It was one thing to know it, but another to hear her actually say it. He stared down at her as his hands dropped her wrists, her arms hitting the sand.

He expected her to fight — heck, he deserved it — but she didn’t. Instead, she covered her face with her hands and began to sob, heart-wrenching sobs that went straight to his chest, breaking his heart. 

He managed to semi-pull her into his arms, get her so she was lying across him, her head in his lap. Her wedding dress was tangled around her legs, her veil twisted around her arms. He noticed with a heavy heart that her fingers were bare. No wedding ring. No engagement ring.

His horrible feeling increased tenfold.

Naomi’s words echoed in his head. _All you’re going to do is hurt her again._

“Addie?” he whispered. His wanted to rub her back, to calm her down, to run his fingers through her hair, but the layers of silk were in the way, just another barrier between them.

She wouldn’t stop crying, the sobs so intense and so heavy they made her whole body shake. He had never seen her like this before — though a little voice in his head told him that was because he hadn’t been around to see the damage the last time.

_All you’re going to do is hurt her again._

He closed his eyes, one hand resting on her hip, the other on the top of her head, waiting for the words he knew were coming.

“I couldn’t marry him,” she finally said, through sobs that still wouldn’t die down. “I couldn’t marry, Jake.”

She lifted her head them, met Derek’s eyes. Her blue eyes were as sad as Derek had ever seen them.

“It’s your fault,” she whispered. _“I hate you.”_

She repeated it, louder this time, then again, and again, and finally again.

“I hate you!” she screamed, until he was tired of hearing it. For a second, his temper flared. This wasn’t all on him.

“Well, you’re no picnic yourself,” he yelled back. He reached over to the cooler beside him, and threw it open. What the hell did it matter now anyway? He grabbed the bottle of scotch and the bottle of gin. He tossed the gin to her.

“Why you don’t drink some of that and just calm the fuck down, Addison?” he snarled.

“Fuck you!” she said, but she uncapped the bottle and took a swig. Even without looking at her, he could feel her glare.

•••

Three hours later, her rage had turned to drunken hysterical sobbing. They were back at her house, sitting on the bed, her head in his lap. She was crying so hard he was worried she was going to start hyperventilating.

“Addie, honey, come on,” he said. He reached down, grasping her shoulders to sit her upright. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks as her chest heaved. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping his arms around her as his one hand stroked her head.

“It’s okay,” he said. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to figure something out. I promise.”

“I … want … Jake,” she managed to gasp out between sobs. “And Henry.”

“I know you do,” he cooed to her. “I know you do.”

“I .., don’t .. want … to … be … alone,” she managed.

“You’re not alone, Addie. I’m right here. You are never going to be alone.”

She lifted her head from his shoulder. She was so close to him he could see the pain in her eyes, even though it was pitch black outside.

She leaned forward, her lips pressing against his, at once both tender and forceful.

He knew, in that moment, that he should stop it. She was drunk. Maybe they both were. She was hurting. They definitely both were. They both had a spouse and a child, but there was something in her eyes, the feel of her skin, the desperation in the air. 

In a few short hours their whole lives had changed. The future was a mess.

So he kissed her back, curled his fingers into her hair and brought her even closer to him. She bit down on his lower lip and he forced his tongue into her mouth. 

Her hands found the hem of his shirt and she tugged it up. They broke apart so she could pull it over his head. He took the opportunity to grab her by the shoulders, flip her over so she was on her back. 

He yanked the buttons of her pajama top apart, shoving the fabric open. She didn’t have a bra on, and his mouth instantly fastened on to a breast. Her fingers clawed into his scalped as she arched upward into his touch. His other hand found her other breast, squeezing it hard in his hand. She whimpered softly and dug her nails in more. He pinched her nipple with unintended force. She let out a cry, then grabbed his face, pulling it up to hers, attacking him again with her lips.

Their teeth gnashed as they fought for dominance. He dropped one of his hands and forced it down her pajama pants, inside her panties, inside her.

She yelped in surprise. He took the opportunity to grab her wrists, pin them over her head with one of his hands.

She wriggled around, but he had a good grip, and his other hand was plunging into her at full speed now.

She moaned, her body arching, her hips moving as she tried to ground herself against his hand.

He let go of her wrists, moved down her body to grab the waistband of her pajamas, tugged them along with her panties down her legs. She helped kick them off her ankles, then she spread her legs.

He hoisted her legs up over his shoulders, then plunged two fingers back inside her, not bothering to check if she was ready. But she was. His fingers were coated in wetness.

She shrieked, and her fingers latched themselves back into his hair.

He thrust his fingers into her furiously. She writhed beneath him, her hips moving fast to keep time with the ministrations of his fingers.

He bent down, took her clit into his mouth and sank his teeth into her.

She screamed, but with her legs over his shoulders, she didn’t really have much room to move. He kept going, thrusting into her harder and faster and deeper, his mouth continually sucking at her, until finally, she came apart beneath him, her whole body tensing and then trembling.

He didn’t wait until she recovered. He just placed her legs back on the bed and shoved her apart, then tore his boxers down and off his legs. He poised himself at her entrance, and then before she could protest, he slipped inside.

She moaned, then wrapped her arms around his neck, almost in a death grip. She lifted her legs and locked them around his waist. They began to move, each of them trying to outdo the other, faster and harder. She scratched her nails down his back, the pain running through him. He tugged her hair, hard, and she whimpered. She locked her arms tighter around his neck, trying to suffocate him. He forced a hand between them, rubber her clit hard with the pad of his thumb, not letting up even when she bite down on his shoulder.

He pinched her clit, tugged on her hair again, bit her lip, and then she was coming for the second time, her muscles clamping down around him, causing him to lose control. 

He collapsed on top of her. He could feel her breasts heaving beneath him, their legs tangled together in a sticky mess.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered into the silence.

“You started it,” he said, and went to go clean himself up as best he could.

When he got back, she was at the edge of the bed, her arms crossed across her chest. She was glaring at the floor.

“I’m leaving,” he said. He expected her to shout out at him that she was glad, that he should get the hell out of her life. What he didn’t expect as he started to turn to the door was for her hand to reach out and grab his wrist, her fingers digging into his arm. He turned to look at her, and was instantly taken aback. Tears had welled up in her eyes and her face was scrunched up in that way that she gets when she’s about to cry but she doesn’t want to.

And then she was crying. Sobbing really. Derek didn’t know where it came from — it’s almost as though the dam broke and it exploded out of her, even though he was sure she had run out of tears earlier — but she was sobbing and her one hand was clinging to his arm and she was trying to reach for him with her other arm, and then before he knew it, she was on the floor with him and he was pulling her into his arms and his shirt was fisted in her hands and her head was against his chest and he could feel the dampness from her tears even though it had barely even been thirty seconds. So he tightened his arms around her and alternated between rubbing her back and stroking her hair and he rocked her against him and whispered into her ear, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay,” over and over and over, although he knew she wasn’t listening to a single word he said, and he just let her cry, because he knew she needed to do so, although he did turn her head a little to the side and try to angle her a bit more upright because for a few minutes he was seriously worried she was going to hyperventilate or suffocate or something.

She was crying so hard she was actually shaking, and at a couple of points he could feel her nails dig into his skin, but when that happened, he just held her even tighter and waited for it to pass. And eventually it did. First the sobbing stopped and became silent tears, then the silent tears turned into soft sniffles, and then finally the sniffles became less frequent and her breathing becames more even, and when he finally dared to push her a little away from his chest so her could see her face, he confirmed his suspicions that she literally cried herself to sleep. 

He pushed himself to his feet, which was a little tricky since his legs had gone numb, and lifted her up and gently placed her back in bed. He was almost finished pulling the covers up around her when her eyes opened slightly and her hand reached up to rub them groggily.

“Can you stay with me?” she murmured, and Derek didn’t even think about it. He figured he owed her, so he just slid her over a little more, then slipped in beside her. She subconsciously snuggled up against him, her head on his chest, and he draped his arm over her waist, and he knew he shouldn’t be here and he knew he shouldn’t be doing this and he knew that Meredith definitely would not approve — not that Meredith would approve of anything that just happened in the past couple weeks — but that didn’t seem to matter too much at the moment. So he waited till he knew Addison had fallen asleep before he, too, let himself drift off.

But things always looked different in the harsh light of day. He woke up before she did and knew he coudn't do this. Not like this. He slipped out of bed, grabbed his stuff and headed out, not even bothering to say goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

**[Addison]**

“I’m sorry,” she said, as tears dripped down her cheeks, splattering on her white shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

Jake just looked at her. Derek was gone, back to Seattle. She was all alone, except for a baby and a man she just left at the alter.

She owed him an explanation, that she knew, but she didn’t know where to start.

She could guess that he wanted to tell her he was shocked, that he hadn’t seen this coming, but judging by his reaction, now and yesterday, that wasn’t true. He saw this coming a long time ago, probably long before she ever did.

“You’ve been so good to me,” she whispered.

And it was true. He has. He has been there for her since he met her. Through the treatments, through the disappointments, through the moments of hope. He watched her hold Henry in her arms when he was just a few hours old. He took care of her when she asked. He took care of Henry when she was too tired to do it.

He loved her more than he had thought he could ever love anyone again. He had told her that. He had sacrificed everything for her. The day he got down on one knee and promised her forever, he meant every word. She knew that for a fact.

He still meant those words. She just can’t bear to hear them anymore. At least not from him.

“I wish I could make this better,” she cried.

She can’t. There was no way to make this better. That’s what Jake told her now, that he saw this day coming a long time ago, the first time he saw the picture of _him_ and he watched her eyes light up as she told him who he was.

And every time after, when she spoke his name or he caught her looking at his picture when she thought she was all alone, he knew this moment was inching just a little bit nearer.

And when the phone call came with the news about Mark and she left for Seattle without him, Jake said he knew it was just a matter of time.

She put in a good effort, he has to give her that, he said. She lasted longer than he thought she would.

“You love him,” he said to her now. “I’ve always known that.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. She was saying it so much it was beginning to lose all meaning.

“Does he love you?” he asked. It came out too harsh, a bit too cruel, but she just looked at him, her eyes sad. She knew he could see the answer in her eyes, at least she hoped he could.

She was really not sure at all where Derek’s head was concerning her.

Thankfully for her, Jake wasn’t cruel enough to wish for her to get her heart broken. He knew her past. He knew she’s barely hanging on. He could probably tell that just by looking at her. She hadn’t slept, her head was pounding and she wasn’t really sure if she would ever stop crying.

She looked at him, probably for the last time, and wished he were the one who could have fixed her, who could have proven to her that dreams do come true.

She wished that she maybe could have warned him about what was going to happen, wished that she maybe could have told him there was only one person who could possibly heal her, a person who lived two thousand miles away, a person who he could never live up to.

“You’re a good person, and I love you,” she told him now. She meant it. He was a much better person that she, or Derek, could ever hope to be. “This just isn’t the life I hoped I’d have.”

He left then, and there was nothing she could do but watch, the child he had come to think of as his own sleeping peacefully in her arms.

“I hope you’re happy this time,” he said as he reached the door. “I hope you finally get what you want.”

She was far from sure it would happen, but she had to try. She wanted to tell him that, but it felt too cruel, on top of everything she had already done.

He closed the door behind him and headed outside, leaving her alone with Henry. And a broken heart.


	8. Chapter 8

**[Derek]**

The beginning of the end came on a Tuesday night.

It was so late and he was so tired and the silence on the other end of the line was so thick, Derek actually had to pull the phone away from his ear and squint at it in the darkness to make sure there really was someone there and that his mind was not just playing tricks on him.

He had to rub his eyes when he saw the name but put the phone back to his ear anyway.

“Addison?” he said quietly, because Meredith was asleep beside him and he didn't want to wake her until he knew there was a reason to. He still hadn’t told her what had happened in Los Angeles. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to. He knew he had ruined Addison’s life, but did it mean he wanted to be with her? He wasn’t sure.

Now, though, all he could hear was silence.

He tried again. 

“Addison?” A little louder this time.

Still nothing. 

“Addie, what’s wrong? Honey, what happened?”

His voice was soft, gentle, and he didn’t even realize at first that he was reverting back to how he would have tried to soothe her if this had been eight years ago and she was still his wife, but he knew without a doubt, that with everything that had happened, she wouldn’t be calling him without good reason, and although he was still insanely tired and slightly groggy, he had a bad feeling about this.

But there was nothing but silence and he once again had to check his phone to make sure he didn’t miss her hanging up on him. But he didn’t and she was still there, so he has no choice but to make one last effort.

“Addie, honey, talk to me.”

When all he got was even more silence, he contemplated just hanging up, going back to bed and pretending this was some weird dream he was having, but then he heard it. The soft sound of a sob being choked back, and he felt his heart break. The pain he caused echoing back at him.

“Addison?” he whispered again. “Addison, what’s wrong?”

He actually expected a real answer this time. He could tell she was at her breaking point, and that normally was the point she started talking.

Instead he heard a broken whisper.

“I … I can’t … I’m s-sorry.”

And then she was gone. 

Amelia called him six days later. He almost dreaded answering it, but in truth, he was surprised she waited this long.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said before she can get a word out.

“Addison is in the hospital.”

His world stopped. He actually fell onto an empty gurney in the hall.

“What?” he managed to croak out. “Why?”

“Alcohol poisoning.” She paused. “It’s bad,” she said.

He was on the next plane out. He found Amelia pacing the halls of the hospital. She waved him in the direction of Addison’s room, but grabbed his arm before he could actually head that way.

He turned to her. He can’t remember her ever looking so serious.

“I found her,” she practically hissed. “She was unconscious on the kitchen floor. She was barely breathing. They had to _pump her stomach_.”

He didn’t know for sure what to say. Amelia kept talking.

“Everyone thinks it was an accident.” She made sure to look him directly in the eyes as she said the next part. “I don’t think it was.”

He stared at her, and he knew. In that second, guilt consumed him.

“She told you,” he said. It was all he could think of to say.

She glared at him. “She’s in love with you! What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do that to her? All she wanted was a happy ending.”

He shook his head, pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt dizzy, sick to his stomach.

“I’m here now,” is all he could manage.

Her eyes didn’t move away from his face. “You hurt her again, and I’ll kill you,” she said.

He had no doubt she meant it.

Addison was still sedated when he entered her room. He took a seat in the chair by her bed, held the hand not connected to IVs and heart monitors and waited. 

Eight hours later, her eyes fluttered. She blinked a few times, groaned softly, turned her head and finally saw him. Her eyes widened in confusion.

“Derek?” she croaked.

He reached for the ice chips on the table beside him and dropped a couple into her mouth. He kept holding her one hand in his.

He waited for a few seconds, until he’s sure they’ve melted, to speak.

“What the hell did you do, Addison?” He kept his voice soft, gentle, as non-accusatory as possible. He wanted to convey worry, fear, not blame.

He watched as she faltered for words.

He squeezed her hand to show her it was okay.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For showing up that day. For following you after the funeral. For what happened after the funeral. I’m so sorry.”

He watched her carefully. He could see her replaying everything in her mind. Her eyes flooded with tears.

“I’m so stupid,” she whispered. She tried to tug her hand out of his, but he didn’t let her.

“No,” he said. “I was the stupid one. I made you promises, now and then, and then I hurt you.”

She turned her head away from him, focused on the wall by her bed.

“You should go,” she said.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Derek.” She must have summoned all the strength she could muster, because her voice came out strong, determined. “You have a wife and a child.”

“No, I don’t,” he said. 

“What?”

She turned back to look at him, frowning.

He corrected himself. “I have a child,” he said. “Yes, but that’s it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I left Meredith.”

_”What?”_

“I was driving back to Seattle,” he says. “After … after it happened … and all I could think was that someone was going to get hurt. … And then I realized that the one person I most didn’t want to get hurt was the one I already hurt.”

She frowned. He continued.

“I was scared,” he said. “And I was confused. And I thought I could keep living a lie. But then you called me, the other night, and I knew. You didn’t say a word, but I knew.”

He took a breath, summoned his courage. “I told Meredith the next morning. Everything. We’re getting a divorce.”

“Because of me?” Addison said, and he couldn’t tell if she was happy or upset.

“Because of me,” he said. “Because of her and me. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Derek …” He watched as a tear breaks loose and dripped down her cheek. “I don’t know if … if I can …”

“I know,” he said. He reached up with his thumb and wiped the moisture off her cheek. “And I’m not asking you for anything. If you want me to leave, just say the words. I’ll leave if you ask.”

She didn’t answer. She just looked at him, _really_ looks at him.

Finally, after what seems a lifetime, she spoke. “What if I ask you to stay?”

He smiled. “Then I’ll stay,” he said. “For as long as you want.”

“What if I ask you to stay forever?”

“Then I’ll stay forever.”

He squeezed her hand. She asked him to stay. He stayed.


End file.
